


keeper (19 days)

by adaosix



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Character Death, M/M, Necrophilia, Non-Consensual, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22903870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaosix/pseuds/adaosix
Summary: There is nothing to wait for, unfortunately. He Tian's voice only becomes wearier, and every syllable he speaks only wrap themselves into grief and nothingness as they hit the stale air. Mo Guan Shan only lies under him.
Relationships: He Tian/Mo Guanshan (19 Days)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	keeper (19 days)

**Author's Note:**

> this story is originally an NCT fan fiction, which is still up and not removed under my works  
> the original characters are Wong Yukhei and Lee Minhyung of NCT
> 
> i wanted, however, to have the same story, but with He Tian and Mo Guan Shan as the characters. i absolutely feel like they fit the personalities of the characters in the story. especially He Tian. might just be me. i honestly just cant get it out of my head so i just uhh
> 
> (note that this version is significantly shorter than the NCT version)
> 
> some info might not be true and lacking. you might not approve of the dialogue
> 
> warning: necrophilia

  
  


There are a lot of things that can be heard inside Mo Guan Shan's dimly-lit apartment. A commercial for yet another overvalued bath soap is playing on the television, followed by another, and then another, until the screen shows a continuation of a long-since yielded series.

On the far end of the room just by the window is a radio atop an old desk. It does anything but make comprehensible words and sounds, as the signal proves weak in that far end. The static battles with the dialogue on the television, and it creates a jumbled mixture of unpleasant noise that makes anyone within radius step back and withdraw.

On the center is a couch, where He Tian is crouched, grunting and moaning, and below him is Mo Guan Shan, unmoving, pale, and silent.

“Say my name, Mo.”

Despite the lingering absence of heat and pulse, the unmoving chest, and the unresponsive cock, everything has yet to sink in for He Tian. The arm of the couch is clutched so tightly by his arms for better leverage, thrusting his cock inside of Mo Guan Shan as equally hard, as he is gripping the fabric of the furniture.

The muddled noise from the television and radio rumbling within the living room drowns out anything that comes out of his mouth. He Tian only hopes it useful, as they are crammed between two other apartments: On the left resides a family of five, the three children having grown awfully close to both of them ever since they’ve moved here four years ago, their parents have yet to accept befriending two men in a romantic relationship even after having proved there’s nothing wrong with it at all. On the right resides a couple, broken and unstable. They’ve lived there for only two weeks.

“You feel so good, Mo. Do you feel good?” He Tian asks aloud, lips only centimeters away from the crown of Mo Guan Shan's ear. He asks again, in low, ragged speech. “Does my cock make you feel good?”

There is nothing to wait for, unfortunately. His voice only becomes wearier, and every syllable he speaks only wrap themselves into grief and nothingness as they hit the stale air. Mo Guan Shan only lies under him.

He Tian feels no resistance as his cock continuously slides in and out of Mo Guan Shan's ass in an ugly rhythm. He Tian has grown accustomed to the tightness that has always wrapped around his leaking dick all these years that it doesn’t feel right at first; the absence of the familiar heat, the emergent slack.

Mo Guan Shan's legs are spread open; one leg is draped over the backrest and the other is hanging languidly on the other side, toenails languorously dragging on the wooden surface of the floor every time He Tian pushes in with much more vigor than normal. He Tian grunts, feeling his stomach churn when he’s balls-deep inside what once was tight flesh. Now it’s just anything but that, and He Tian adjusts himself once more.

“Maybe I just didn’t hit it right, yeah? The spot that makes you fucking scream your lungs out,” he murmurs in a tone wrapped up in disbelief, licking the white expanse of the younger’s paling chest as he positions his cock in a different angle. The head hits something particularly firm and he knows he’s hit it but no sound comes out of He Tian's mouth, and so he rams into it again, and again, hoping for immediate tension and sound, only to be left dissatisfied of the nothingness.

He hovers his head above Mo Guan Shan, and he looks so awfully pale and dull that He Tian stops altogether just to pinch his cheeks, wanting it red and puffy, but all he’s caused is anything but. The tips of his fingers are simply met with hardened skin.

Mo Guan Shan's lips feel cold when He Tian greets them with his own, the chapped surface merely there. He Tian bites into the paling flesh and ignores the budding smell. It travels from Mo Guan Shan's slacked mouth and into his nostrils, the stench not entirely strong but it’s there, and it’s nothing he’s ever had the chance to smell before but he reasons it okay because it’s Mo Guan Shan. He lets his tongue travel inside with more force than usual, dragging parallel the line of Mo Guan Shan teeth, bites wherever. The walls feel unyielding and lacks of the usual heat when he drags the muscle along its surface and He Tian's heart starts to ache, realizes it devoid of love but only of anguish and frustration. It shouldn’t be like this.

He rams his cock once again through gritted teeth, lips scrunched up in a way that vaguely resists the growing tremble as he miserably hunts for anything that doesn’t convey a person gone and passed.

He feels light despite the hard ramming and heavy sweating, figures he should feel heavy of the noise on his back, but the lingering in his head feels otherwise once he realizes something is missing.

“Baby, why aren’t your arms wrapped around me?” He Tian whimpers as he pulls out halfway, leaning back and craning his neck upwards only to stare at the cracked ceiling for a few seconds, eyes bereft of anything at all, mouth hanging open from the pleasure and everything but, and then rams his cock back inside so hard Mo Guan Shan's body shifts upwards from the force.

He leans down once again, and Mo Guan Shan's arms feel as equally heavy as He Tian's heart when he forces them to sling around his neck, only for them to slide off of the skin of his shoulders, right arm hanging off the edge of the couch, left arm stuck in between Mo Guan Shan's languid body and the backrest, both barren of any control.

“Come on, Mo, don’t be a fucking bitch and put your arms around my neck,” He Tian growls, exasperated, ignores the growing lump in his throat. He readjusts Mo Guan Shan's stiff arms, wraps them around him as tight as possible so they form a cross above his nape, only to fall all over again.

He Tian groans. Despite his throbbing cock aching for release, he pulls out all the way, shuddering at the slight drag and then at the cold air, noting at how the difference in temperature inside of Mo Guan Shan's hole isn’t of total contrast with the air outside. Mo Guan Shan doesn’t whine.

Sluggishly getting up from the couch, He Tian can’t help but want to tear his own heart out at the sight of Mo Guan Shan, as everything is muddled inside his brain but is still able comprehend the situation. In the background the television shows a man and a woman having an argument in a small, unattractive room, screen overlaid with an obnoxious sepia that obscures their faces even more. Mo Guan Shan's always hated shows like that.

Their looming voices don’t seem to faze He Tian as he observes around the dim living room, eyes as lifeless as Mo Guan Shan's. The sunrays that have passed through the cracks of the blinds don’t do much but a help nonetheless.

He Tian's eyes fall to the counter by the main door. There sits a small, empty vase with a tiny crack on its side. Beside it lies an orange key lanyard, curled and old, and on its end are three rusted keys.

He Tian blinks, and then he finds himself already trudging towards the counter with his cock still so painfully erect. He grabs the lanyard once he’s at an arm’s length and walks back to the couch without much thought. Mo Guan Shan looks alive from a few feet away.

He Tian feels apathetic at the moment however, and it shows as he grabs both of Mo Guan Shan's arms and ties them together with the lanyard. He’s tied it so loosely, even though there’s nothing to worry about. Once satisfied, He Tian goes back to his previous position; crouched above Mo Guan Shan, arms at the back of his thighs. He doesn’t like how stiff and cold they feel on his fingers.

This time, he adjusts himself so he can easily move Mo Guan Shan's tied-up arms over his head and around his neck.

He rams his cock back inside in one go. He’s expected the feeling, but still hasn’t gotten used to its unresponsiveness. It feels strange. It’s all the same yet all so different at the same time, but He Tian's pushed all rationality aside and fucks Mo Guan Shan even more.

This time, Mo Guan Shan's arms don’t fall over, and the keys on the lanyard jingle along with He Tian's unstable thrusts.

“Baby, I feel good. Do you feel good? Tell me,” He Tian feels empty, despite all that. “Mo.”

He Tian thrusts and thrusts even more, the slapping sound of skin to skin and the jingling of the keys mixing together with the static of the radio and the television in the most awful way that it battles with the way He Tian's heart is practically mixed with the ugliest of feelings, scrunched up and battered all at once.

It's just there, in his heart, inching slowly to bursting all over the place. It’s indifference, but then it’s not, because it’s Mo Guan Shan, but he’s sure he’d felt it a while ago, he’s sure. There’s his heart devoid of love, but when he sees his lover's face again, it fills, overflows, and then it stops, drains, to the point where it’s empty again. There’s frustration, because Mo Guan Shan just wouldn’t tighten up on his cock, wouldn’t moan no matter how hard he’d fuck him, and he just wouldn’t embrace him without the lanyard tied up around his wrists. Everything is just so utterly confusing, and that’s just it, as how far he can comprehend anything at all right now.

Despite the lingering confusion, however, He Tian decides to just let it be for now, let his cock fuck Mo Guan Shan's lifeless body for now, because any more would only drown him in whatever it is that should, and he doesn’t even know what it is.

He Tian lowers his head once more so he has a clear view of his face, notices how his cheeks have turned stiffer as they should.

“Mo,” he utters for the umpteenth time, utterly dejected and blue, clearly knowing he will never hear him answer back. He drags a hand along his soft, black hair, grips the ends as hard as he can. His eyes have become dull, even more with the dim lighting.

  
  
“You feel so fucking good, baby, so good,” He says aloud again, but this time, he finds himself sobbing.

He doesn’t realize the tears pooling in his eyes just yet. They stay there, until everything is too much. He only catches sight of his own tears sliding off of Mo Guan Shan's cheeks immediately right after he cums inside of him, Mo Guan Shan's hole filled to the brim. He Tian sobs a little more at the sight, because the man below him looks so alive. He wipes his fingers along the length of Mo Guan Shan's face as if they’re his tears, as if Mo Guan Shan is the one who’s crying. He Tian's tears fall even more, and they fall fast.

The sound from the television is faint, as it shows a couple on the bench comfortably sitting with each other in silence, clearly in love, hand in hand. He Tian can hear himself cry then, the impending static from the radio not good enough on its own, and the jingling of the keys have stopped long since He Tian painfully rode out his high.

“Don’t cry, Little Mo,” He Tian pleads, wiping the gradual drops of tears on Mo Guan Shan's skin.

  
  
  


  
The television screen eventually shows of a new scene, this time of the same couple getting married. There’s gradually increasing music in the background. He Tian moves, although still completely dazed and teary-eyed, and the keys on the lanyard jingle once again.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/hyucksix) ♧


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